Klarion and Greta: On the Darkside
by Nitebreaker
Summary: So Greta's back among the living. Now everything's smooth sailing, right? Uh, well, not so much...
1. Chapter 1

_In response to those who wanted more Klarion and Greta, this just sorta came to me…..it's not finished, and I don't know how much time I'll have to devote to it, what with "Phoenix Ascending" and all, but I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!_

Klarion and Greta: On the Darkside

Chapter 1: Old Friends, New Friends

Stephanie Brown yawned expansively as she woke up. It hadn't been a particularly quiet night, but she'd finally gotten to sleep. Klarion, the witch boy, had gotten the craziest notion in his head that he had to resurrect some girl's ghost or something, and somehow she had been caught up in the ensuing fallout. _Note to self,_ she thought as she got up and went into the bathroom, _do not, repeat, do not get involved with Witch boys ever again._ Not that it had been a great disaster, but her nerves just weren't up to it any more.

In the bathroom, she stripped out of her sleep shirt and stepped naked into the shower, turning it on as hot as she could stand it. Mmm. Yes. Just the thing to take the kinks out of the ol' muscles before going to work.

She scrubbed herself clean, snagged her towel off the rack, and stepped out of the shower.

There was a cat sitting on the toilet, watching her. And not just any cat: it was Teekl, staring straight at her in that unnerving way cats have of staring at people.

"T-T-Teekl?" The pit of her stomach dropped down into somewhere in the vicinity of Earth's mantle. One thing she knew: wherever Teekl was, Klarion couldn't be far behind.

She clutched the towel around her. Teekl was no ordinary cat; she wasn't sure how much of him was….was….human? Human like? Whatever the term was, _dammit, he wasn't just an animal_. "Do you, like, mind? I'd like to get dressed here. In private."

The witch cat actually rolled his eyes, as if to say, _humans_, but he jumped down from his perch and flowed out the door. Now that she was listening, Stephanie could hear certain sounds coming from the small apartment's kitchen…sounds that indicated she was no longer alone. Oh, damn. Here we go again.

She dressed as hurredly as possible, then went straight to the kitchenette. There sat Klarion, holding Teekl, who was giving her a glare. _Took you long enough._

Also in the small kitchenette was a young girl, about fourteen or fifteen years old. Stephanie didn't recognize her; but remembered Klarion talking about bringing back a girl who'd been murdered by her brother. Could this be her? Had he actually succeeded? Unbelievable as it may seem, Stephanie didn't doubt for a moment that he had that kind of mojo. Or nerve.

"Ah, Stephanie, so good to see you again!" Klarion rose to greet her. Stephanie noted that the smallish table was laden with various sorts of breakfast foods: sausage, bacon, ham, hash browns, scrambled eggs, biscuits and toast. "Here. Please. Come have a seat." And he ushered her into a chair. "I took the liberty of making-well, conjuring up-breakfast. So please. Help yourself to anything that strikes your fancy. And I've someone to introduce to you." He motioned to the girl. "Stephanie Brown, may I introduce Greta Hayes. She's the girl I was telling you about, earlier. Greta. This is Stephanie Brown, one of my truest mortal friends."

Gingerly, Stephanie sat, as though the chair might become an anaconda any second. She studied the girl. She was young, of course, and rather comely. Not beautiful, maybe, but attractive. The girl herself, Greta, was studying Stephanie right back. "It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am. Klarion has told me so much about you."

"Ah, uh…y-yes. I-I haven't heard that much about you, but, but, weren't you, uhm." She trailed off, unsure as to how to continue.

"Dead?" said the girl. "Yes, yes, it seems I was." Here she paused, staring down at her hands, folded neatly in her lap. "My brother….." She fell silent.

"Now, Greta, it's alright now," Klarion admonished. "I mean, I know, sort of, how you must be feeling, but all that's in the past. Whatever problems await you now, I'll help you with. And I'm sure Miss Stephanie feels the same way. You're not alone in this." While he spoke, Stephanie was impressed with his evident sincerity. He really cared about this girl. And from the non-verbal cues she was picking up from Greta, the feeling appeared to be somewhat mutual.

Klarion Bleak, the Witch Boy, a Lord of Chaos…..in love? Was the universe ready for this? Was _she_? "Uh, Klarion, not to be premature or anything, but, but why are you here?"

Klarion wiped his mouth with a silk napkin embossed with the scarlet letters "KB" in one corner. "Two reasons. One, I wanted to introduce Greta to you, since you were so supportive of me in liberating her from some truly dark powers. My success is as much yours as mine.

"And second," and here he paused, while Stephanie steeled herself, sensing something big coming, "I…no, make that we, need your advice."

"Advice? Me?" Stephanie was hoping she kept the squeak out of her voice.

"But of course you. You're one of my closest mortal friends, Stephanie. I value and respect your opinion."

Oh, Lord, thought Stephanie. Here we go again.

Several blocks away, a man fumbled with the key to his house. He was a tall man, with iron-gray hair, sporting two white highlights down the sides. People who saw him on the street-which was rare-were more often than not impressed with his silence. He just didn't seem like a man who talked a lot. Or smiled a lot. And they would be right.

One thing most passersby probably wouldn't have noticed, unless, that is, they knew what to look for, was that, curiously, whenever he encountered someone, or someone passed by him on the sidewalk, they invariably moved out of the way. There was nothing fearsome about him; people simply felt uncomfortable in his presence for some reason.

So other pedestrians simply moved to one side without even realizing they were doing so. And Jason Blood wouldn't have had it any other way.

Just now he was more tired than anything. During his long life, he'd been many things: soldier, sailor, merchant, spy. Now he was simply grateful that he could be left alone to continue what he considered his true occupation: researcher into the occult.

This was a vocation which he pursued with a passion that often surprised those who came to know him to any degree. More than once, someone had described him as being driven by "some inner demon."

If only they'd known.

For Jason Blood _was_ driven by a demon. Centuries ago, he'd been bonded with Merlin's personal demon, Etrigan, as both a gift and a curse for crimes unmentionable. Now he devoted his every waking hour to the study of that realm of metaphysics that showed the most promise of freeing him from his bondage. He'd been told that such freedom could easily result in his death. He didn't particularly care.

What nobody understood was that being bonded to a demon, an actual demon, was no picnic. He was subject to the creature's infernal nature, not through choice, but by sheer psychic proximity. It was a bit like being too close to a fire…in the spiritual sense. In other words, highly uncomfortable. And it _never went away._

He opened the heavy carved oak door to his home. There; the warm interior light spilled across him, producing a sigh of relief. It was always good to be home.

He moved into the living room—which some people often mistook for the library due to the abundance of books, depositing his package on the coffee table and removing his leather greatcoat from around him, hanging it up on a nearby coat hanger. He'd been more tired than usual these days, especially because he could sense that _something_ was up. _Something_ was going to happen. What, he didn't know. But some sixth—or seventh, or eighth, or thirty-fourth—sense told him to be on his guard.

Extra senses very seldom warned you about _good_ times on the way.

With his coat hung up, he turned to the package on his table. He'd paid a huge sum for the object inside, but, if it only did half of what it was supposed to do, it would be worth every cent.

He opened it carefully. Inside was a bar of what appeared to be ordinary metal. Gingerly, he picked it up—and was overcome by the curious sensation that crept up his arm.

For Jason Blood, mystical researcher and occasional back seat driver to an infernal alter ego, could sense nothing at all from this bar of metal.

That was unusual. For Blood, it was normal to be able to sense certain small things about objects he handled. Sometimes, he could tell if the last person who owned it had died of violence, particularly if he'd been holding said object at the time. Other times, he could get some sort of clue as to the nature of the last owner, what sort of person he (or she) had been, where they had lived, etc.

But about this bar, he could tell nothing whatsoever. He shivered, partly with delight. So. It was true.

This was a bar of _n_th metal, a leftover from the Thanagarian near-invasion a while back. One of its properties was said to be the negation of magic.

And his demonic other half was bonded to him by magic. So the possibilities were…..interesting. Yes, very interesting, indeed.

"Well, of course there are…..not exactly problems, Stephanie. But concerns. I'm sure Greta will wish to resume her life here on Earth, and some things need attending to."

"Oh? Like what?" Stephanie glanced over at the girl, Greta, who was following the conversation and feeding Teekl a bite of sausage simultaneously.

"It's fairly certain she can't go back to living with her brother. I understand he's in Arkham anyway? And there's the small matter of her being legally _dead_, you see. She'll need a new identity. Do you suppose you could help us out there?"

Stephanie clasped her hands together. Quite against her former intentions, she was getting drawn into the problem. There _were _some complications to someone returning from the dead. And how exactly had the witch boy managed that, anyway? He hadn't actually told her all about it, just that he'd bargained some demon lord for her. In a sense, he'd _bought_ her. And brought her back. In a way, it was kinda somewhere between kinky and sweet. Just exactly the sort of thing she'd expect from Klarion Bleak. "Hm. Yes. New ID, cover story….I guess I could say she's my, I dunno, niece or cousin or something. Is anyone likely to recognize her? From her old life, I mean?"

Klarion spread some butter—real butter, not margarine—over a biscuit and took a bite. "Not sure. Probably not….Greta? Is there any one in particular?"

The girl hesitated. "I….don't think so. I never made any really close friends, when I was a-alive," she stuttered slightly over the last word. Stephanie could sympathize. Actually, the girl was doing a remarkable job of adjusting to it all, all things considered. She wasn't sure _she_ could've.

But then, this girl also had someone to turn to. Someone to help her, someone to support her emotionally. Klarion. Stephanie was still trying to wrap her brain around _that_ notion. _Hope they don't have any lovers' quarrels anytime soon,_ she said to herself. _Not sure what I'd do if I were caught in the middle of one of those, with these two._ Aloud, she said, "Well, that's good. So…we need to concentrate on the new identity. I have…..some…..experience with those, myself. And, I know a guy." Bruce Wayne—Batman—had connections, to put it mildly.

Klarion leaned forward suddenly, a faraway look on his blue face. "You know, I just thought of someone else I could tap for advice. Someone who's had a lot of experience in changing identities himself. Plus, it'll annoy him, which is always so amusing to me."

Stephanie sipped her coffee. It was getting cold. "Really? Who?" She wasn't too sure about this notion of bringing in what she considered an outsider into the mix.

"A most fascinating individual. In fact," he stood up, "I think I'll just pop over there to his place right now." He saw the look on Stephanie's face. "Oh, don't worry, Stephanie. Jason Blood's harmless, er, well, most of the time, anyway. Besides, he owes me a favor."

"Jason Blood? The guy with the demon?" Stephanie's eyebrows rose; this really didn't sound like a good idea….

"The same. I shan't be long…."

"Wait! Klarion! Hold up a minute!"

"Eh?" He paused in mid gesture.

"You said you valued my advice. Well, I don't know if it's been brought to your attention before, but you're gonna kinda stand out, what with the blue face an' all."

He looked thoughtful. "Hm. Yes, I don't blend in well up here in Blue Rafters, do I? Well…..I _am_ a witch boy….let's see….." He frowned in concentration. Then he tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and whispered, "_mutare cutis mea color ad id de Stephanie." _ There was a moment…

….and his skin turned into the same color as Stephanie's own. Stephanie's eyes widened; she still couldn't get used to the use of magic on such a casual basis. His features were still the same, with the same odd hair-points, but aside from that, no-one would've thought him to be anything other than human.

"And now," he said with a small smile, "I shall go visit my dear Uncle Jason." And he was gone.

Stephanie and Greta were left staring at each other, Teekl still in Greta's lap, looking hungrily at the next sausage patty. Greta smiled shyly and shrugged. "I rather liked the blue."

Klarion paused on the sidewalk outside of Jason Blood's brownstone. He was wishing he'd snagged some artifact from Blood's house during his last visit; then he could've 'ported straight in. But he hadn't, so he had no mystical leverage, so to speak. He sighed. He'd just have to go up and knock on the door like everyone else. It was so _ordinary…._

But the closer he got, the more his witch-senses gave off alarms. He cast about. Something was wrong. But what?

He reached the door, reached up to knock…..and the door swung loosely inward.

_Hm?_ The door was….open? No, wait…the door wasn't just _open_, it had been _broken into._ The lock was shattered, a brute force entry.

Cautiously, he stepped into the darkened room, every sense alert. Someone would actually break in on Merlin's demon? Besides him? What was the world coming to, anyway? He felt an irrational surge of jealousy.

The place was a shambles, books strewn across the floor, the coffee table smashed in two, the sofa and chairs overturned. And there was no sign of Jason Blood.

Ever more cautiously, he opened his senses up to the environment, feeling for what he feared to find. He breathed a sigh of relief when his senses told him there were no dead bodies in the immediate vicinity.

But equally troubling, there was no one here at all. Klarion could sense traces of Jason Blood-he and "Uncle Jason" had crossed swords often enough that he could sense his presence, even from across a crowded room-but now he couldn't find any trace of _where_ Blood could be. Even more disturbing, he could not sense any other life forms that might be responsible for this mess. "Oh, no," he said, under his breath, lips pressed together. "Not even hardly. If anybody offs MY Uncle Jason, it's going to be _me._"


	2. Chapter 2: On the Darkside, chapter 2

_And here's Chapter 2 of "On the Darkside." Please read and review! Also, I should've mentioned last time, I don't own any of these characters, of course. I do own my shirt. And this laptop. And…sorry. All those "I don't owns" get boring after a while._

Klarion and Greta: On the Darkside, chapter 2

"So tell me, Miss Stephanie, how did you first meet my—uhm, I mean Klarion?" The girl took a sip of hot cocoa.

"Well, I was on patrol, as Batgirl, you know, and happened across a truly horrific scene. Someone, or something, had ripped a pimp's heart out. I followed the blood trail right to Klarion, but, as it turns out, he wasn't the killer. It was all a kind of comedy of errors, so to speak, involving the, the side effects, I guess you'd say, of certain spells. What about you?"

The girl shook her head. "I'm told I met him before, as a ghost, but I hardly remember any of it. That was before this time, understand. Then, on Halloween, he summoned me from my grave…..it wasn't exactly an entirely positive experience, but, I'll admit, I had a certain amount of fun." She briefly smiled a positively feral smile, then sobered again. "Before that….I _seem_ to remember him, but nothing definite. Just bits and pieces, you know. Nothing that makes any sense." She fell silent.

The silence stretched a bit. Then Stephanie spoke up. "Ah, I'm sorry to hear about….you know."

"Yes, thank you. It all seems so….unbelievable to me. And yet…." Stephanie saw a single tear make its way down the side of her face. Greta sniffled and wiped her eyes. "I mean, how could he-*"

At that precise moment, Klarion popped back in. "Hm. Now _that's_ curious."

"What?"

"He's gone. Apparently, Jason Blood's been kidnapped."

Stephanie gasped. "Kidnapped? Are you sure?"

"Well, his house has been broken into. There were definite signs of a struggle. He's not there, and there's no indication of a body or anything. I think it safe to say whoever broke in probably took him with them, in whatever state he was in. Don't you?"

"Ohmygod. Yes. We'd best alert-*"

"Stephanie. Remember, this is Jason Blood we're talking about. I doubt any normal assailants could have done this, or would even want to. I'm reasonably sure Gotham's constables would be useless."

"Well, we have to do _something._" She paused. They were both looking at her. "Oh! Oh, no you don't! Not me! That's not my field anymore!" They both continued to look at her. "No. Repeat _enn oh_. I'm not in that game anymore. Besides, I have a job to go to in," here she looked at her watch and gasped, "…that I should've been in to an hour ago! I'm late! I'm….I'm….." The two continued to look at her, and her shoulders slumped. "I'm…calling in sick."

…

Batgirl looked over her two friends. They'd need something, something to keep them from being so easily identified. Greta had her hood, and her clothing was so nondescript that she could easily be lost in a crowd. Still, better safe than sorry. She rummaged around and found a mask that obscured most of the girl's face. "There. Now, if anyone asks who you are, we'll just say…."

"It's a Secret?" Greta smiled beneath the mask.

"Exactly."

Klarion, now, posed another kind of problem. "You can always switch back to the blue skin, but your clothes…"

"What's wrong with my clothes?"

"Nothing. If you're going to a Class of 1692 Reunion party. Everybody'll be calling you 'the Pilgrim.' And you know how you hate that. So. Let's see…." She sized him up. He wasn't built anything at all like Robin or Nightwing.

"Here, Miss Stephanie, please. Let me." Greta took Klarion by the hand and led him over to the sizeable closet Stephanie kept. Superheroes, even former ones, usually kept a good stock of a wide variety of clothes. Greta picked out a thin tie, white button-down shirt with a high collar, long black jacket with pointed sleeves and pants to match. "Here. Try these on." She pushed him into the next room.

From the next room: "Perfectly good clothes, these are; my mother made 'em. Good fabric." And "I feel like a popinjay…." But he soon emerged, clad in the garments she'd picked out. "Well? How do I look?"

Greta surveyed him, hands on her hips, smiling. "Perfect. Part goth, part formal, part old school, all dangerous. It suits you perfectly, Klarion."

He straightened his tie, nervously. "Teekl? What do you think?"

"_Meh._" Teekl never could understand what it was with humans and clothes anyway.

"Well, anyway. I guess we're ready." He raised his hands to begin the teleport spell…

"Wait, wait," Batgirl interrupted. "Just a minute." She took out a small pill out of her utility belt and dry-swallowed it. "Dramamine," she said, to their looks. "I remembered. From last time."

….

Not only had the place been broken into once, it apparently had been since Klarion had last come there. There was additional wreckage that hadn't been there before. "Klarion, you didn't do this did you? That's what I thought. On your guard, everyone, and look sharp. It's probably safe to assume we're being watched." The trio moved into the interior of the brownstone as one entity, with Batgirl scanning the area for traps and clues. "I don't like this one bit. Feels off. Klarion, did your uncle have any enemies?"

"Plenty. Including me. But, to be honest, this doesn't feel like their work."

"Why not?"

"No magic. None whatsoever. Most of 'Uncle Jason's' enemies are magic users of one degree or another. I can't think of any who'd just smash the door in. Besides a really desperate salesman, I mean." Teekl was on his shoulders, standard battle formation they'd developed through many years of chaos. Now he jumped down and started batting at a piece of paper they'd overlooked.

"Hm." Stephanie picked it up. "Hm." It was a package's postage sticker.

"Found something, Miss Step—I mean, Batgirl?" Greta was curious.

"Possibly. Blood apparently received a large package recently. I mean, look at the postage. And I don't see any sign of the package. Which means-*"

At that exact moment, something big hurtled at them from the shadows.

….


	3. Chapter 3: Impending Doom

And here's chapter 3. Again, I don't own, etc. Please read and review! I always need the encouragement!

Klarion and Greta: On the Darkside, chapter 3: Impending Doom

….

Jason Blood woke in darkness, sore in places he didn't even know he had, and unable to move. He smiled grimly. That wouldn't last. "_Gone, gone, the form of-*_" A small jolt of electricity spasmed through his throat, effectively silencing him.

Okay. So his captors knew about his alter ego. And they knew how the switch was made. That was alright. Sooner or later, they'd slip up. All he had to do was wait.

….

Batgirl swung a roundhouse kick at the hurtling form, designed to not only break the force of the attack, but crack a few ribs on the unknown assailant, too. But instead of the _oooof!_ she'd expected, it smacked sickeningly against her boot. The force of the blow shoved her back, but she regained her footing rapidly, noticing that Klarion had shielded both Greta and himself behind a shimmering wall of energy. And was it just her imagination, or did Greta's form seem a little….indistinct around the edges? Maybe it was just the effect of the magical deflector screen Klarion had just thrown up.

What had surprised them slid off the far wall and bonelessly flopped onto the floor. It was a dead body.

For a brief, horrific moment, Stephanie was sure they'd found Jason Blood. But no, this was the body of a black man, young, wearing the rags of a street dweller. The sightless eyes gazed up at them.

"Oh!" exclaimed Greta, putting her hand to her mouth. Klarion moved forward, shielding her from the sight somewhat. But she couldn't seem to turn away….

Batgirl assessed the body. Judging from the clothes, probably no one associated with Blood. There was, could be, only one reason this particular grisly booby trap had been left for them: a warning. And it served another purpose: communication. _We are watching you. And we kill._

…_._

"So. Mr. Jason Blood." Jason turned, as best he could in the confined space. He'd actually dozed off despite the discomfort of his bonds. In his long life, he'd learned to take rest when and where he could, under practically any circumstances.

The speaker was a tall man with dark hair and severe features. He was wearing tight green pants and an X-shaped harness across his mightily muscled and otherwise bare chest, and, with the wings attached, was obviously a Thanagarian warrior. "I see you're awake. I would ask if you had a pleasant night, but I'm fairly certain you didn't. I would offer apologies for that, were I truly sorry." And here he spread his hands. "As it is, my condolences. It was imperative we secure your services."

Jason Blood wiggled his hands as best he could. "I'd say you've got them. Any chance you might let me up?"

The man smiled humorlessly. "Not at the moment. You see, I'm afraid we're going to have to kill you."

….


	4. Chapter 4: Harpoon

_Here we go with chapter 4. Please read and review, and, as before, I don't own, you know._

Klarion and Greta: On the Darkside: Chapter 4: Harpoon

"Any idea who this is?" Greta asked Batgirl.

"None. And no ID. He was probably just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"So." Klarion leaned over the body. "It's safe to assume that whoever killed this man also took Jason Blood?"

"They set up a booby trap with his corpse. Oh, sorry, Secret," Batgirl apologized.

"It's alright, ma'am. I, I've had to harden myself to some uncomfortable truths lately," said Secret. She looked grim. "I imagine this isn't the worst we'll encounter."

"Well, I can't endanger you two. I'll have to alert the authorities. Even though," she said, as Klarion began to speak, "it may do no good. I know, and I believe you, Klarion, but this isn't the sort of thing one just leaves lying around."

Klarion looked at the body. "Steph—I mean, Batgirl. I take it you would like to know who killed this man?"

"Well, _yeah. _And that's the thing. I have to do a full forensic sweep, and I need to get busy before the police arrive and contaminate the crime scene."

"Batgirl—Stephanie, you do realize our biggest clue is right in front of us, don't you?"

"What, the body? Yes. That's what I meant. Even well-meaning, sometimes the police can overlook or smudge evidence…"

"But you have access to one resource that even the police, with their best computers, cannot equal."

Batgirl raised an eyebrow at him. "You, you mean? Your magic can help with this?"

"Have you ever heard of necromancy?"

…..

"Well," Jason Blood sighed, "at least you're honest about it. That's positively refreshing."

The Thanagarian smiled grimly. "I see no reason to dissemble. And such intrigue always struck me as cowardly anyway. True warriors should fight. One stands, one falls. It's simply natural order. Anything else is needless complication."

"Yet I live, albeit in chains. So I gather from that you've a use for me. Or perhaps I should say, for _him._"

"Indeed. Your demonic other half." The Thanagarian sat down on a low stool and looked at him, and for a moment, it was as if they were just two men, who'd perhaps met on the street, simply speaking to one another. "I….have occasionally wondered….how you manage it. How you _contain _it. On my planet, we know something of demons. I cannot imagine being bound to one, soul-to-soul, as you have been, for, I understand, centuries. It makes me wish….we were not enemies."

Jason Blood shrugged. The thought of death didn't bother him as much as it once had. "There is a saying: 'You get used to it.' Actually, you don't. So, frankly, the concept of dying doesn't unduly trouble me. But I have to admit to some curiosity regarding _why_ you need him."

The Thanagarian hesitated. Then, "You may as well know. You have been researching, in your own way, into the properties of _n_th metal?"

"Yes."

"You probably hoped you'd find some way of negating the magic that binds you to your demon."

"Yes, that much is true." Blood saw no reason to conceal that obvious truth.

"_N_th metal has the property of negating magic, true. But…it does so by tapping into another source of energy, which I suppose you could call antimagic, or antiforce. Understand, these are the terms as best as I can translate them for you."

"I understand. Please continue." Jason was genuinely fascinated.

"By tapping into this antimagic, _n_th metal has the potential to become the most dangerous substance in the universe. Or at least, the most dangerous substance any of us are likely to encounter, if the Fates are kind."

Jason Blood raised an eyebrow. "Even worse than, say, antimatter?"

"Much worse. Your world, your science, doesn't really comprehend what you call magic or its place in the grand scheme. You see, magic is a fundamental force, something that binds all reality together."

"Like the Force, in Star Wars?"

The Thanagarian shook his head. "I'm unfamiliar with that concept. But think of it this way: magic is a positive, energetic influence throughout the cosmos. The energy of _life._"

"Okay…"

"_N_th metal has the capability, under some circumstances fortunately far too strenuous to duplicate often, of becoming something…..else. Something….horrible."

"How horrible?"

"_Necronium._"

…_._

_To be continued…_


	5. Chapter 5: Reason And Revelations

_Chapter 5. Please read and review. Moreover, tell me where you think this should go….I'm not altogether sure myself where it's going! But that's half the fun…._

_I don't own any of these characters, of course._

Klarion and Greta: On the Darkside: Chapter 5: Reason. And Revelations.

"_My name,_" said the corpse, in a voice Batgirl could only describe as "sepulchural," "_was John Williams. In life, I lived…_" The sightless eyes turned towards the door, "_there. I saw….the winged men in the door. I thought…it was something to do with the circus. I went….to see. I knew….no more._"

"Thanagarians. They probably counted on the presence of the circus to cover their activities. That, and a populace so jaded…" Batgirl was pensive. "Okay. Now I know. I'll have to call in the big guns on this one. But first, I've got to get you two to safety."

"Stephanie…Batgirl, there's no time. If indeed 'Uncle Jason' was kidnapped by Thanagarians, we've no time to waste."

Batgirl shook her head. "I can't justify taking you two kids into danger like this. I'm gonna have to call in the League. No, you can stay at my place until this is settled…."

"You don't understand. I have a, well, call it a sixth sense about these things. Jason Blood is in immediate and mortal danger. And…really, not to toot my own horn, but you _need_ me in on this." Klarion was as earnest as Stephanie had ever seen him.

"Need you? I need more than just your say-so to-*"

"Because I'm a Lord of Chaos. I can _sense_ chaos, the lines of probability, of what is likely to be. And what I'm sensing is…very bad. Very bad, indeed."

Batgirl bit a knuckle. "Define 'bad'."

Klarion glanced at Greta. Then, "If what I sense is true, the universe doesn't have long to live. I'd estimate it's lifespan in terms of days. Or less." He paused. "Now, we _do_ have time to get Greta to safety….."

"Ex_scuse_ me? I'm right here, Klarion." Greta had her hands on her hips, gazing at him accusingly. "And from what you say, there is no place of safety anyway. So count me in."

He went over to her. "Greta. Things are getting very bad, and are probably going to get worse. I….I could put you in a pocket dimension, or an alternate reality, or…."

"While you and Stephanie go face this ultimate danger all alone? What kind of girl do you think I am? That I just run away at the first sign of trouble? And leave my boyfriend to face it all by himself? Is that all you think of me?"

"Well, no, of course n-*"

"Then it's settled. We're in this together, Klarion Bleak, and don't you forget it." She entwined her fingers in his.

He slumped. "Well, alright. If that's the way you feel about-* Wait." He did a double-take. "What did you just call me?"

She reached up on tip-toe and kissed him, tenderly. "We'll go over that later, 'kay? First things first. How do we find these guys? Batgirl?"

…

"And, you want to create this…horrible…substance?" Jason Blood asked. Just the name alone was enough to send shivers down his spine. And he lived with a demon.

The Thanagarian sighed. "Want to? No. Have to? Yes. You see, the creation of Necronium might well be the only thing that could save our mutual universe."

Jason Blood frowned. "But you're not making sense. You need to create this, this terrible thing in order to _save_ the universe?"

"Indeed." The Thanagarian sighed again. "You see, it turns out the concept of predation isn't limited to planetary or mundane organisms."

"No?"

"No. There is a being-we call it the Taker-who feeds on universes. Whole universes. It assimilates them, just as you and I feed on, and assimilate, food. From what we've gathered, universes are as cells in its being." And here he turned his own set of haunted eyes to look Jason Blood in the eye. "And it's coming here. For our universe. Soon. And the only thing my people could come up with, to deter it, is the antilife properties of Necronium. And that may not work."

Jason Blood shifted uncomfortably, and it had nothing to do with his current posture. Over the centuries, he'd become a pretty good judge of character. He could tell that this Thanagarian warrior was telling him the truth as he himself understood it. "You know, you could've come to me, openly. I might would've worked with you freely."

The warrior shook his head. "We couldn't take the chance. Too much is at stake. For, you see, in order to transform _n_th metal into pure necronium, certain energies have to be channeled through an organism. Lethal energies, I might add. But not through you; through your demonic alter-ego." He paused, uncomfortably. "The resulting reaction….will not only destroy you both, but probably any otherwise immortal part you may possess. Your soul, if you will." He looked up. "But there seems to be no other way."


	6. Chapter 6: Plans of Attack

_I don't own, blah, blah, on with the show._

Klarion and Greta: On the Darkside, Chapter 6: Plans of Attack

"Oracle?" This is Batgirl. I need you to scan for any high-end technology being used, especially anything of an otherworldly nature. Specifically for Thanagarian tech. Or any place where such could be."

"_Hmm. Hang on…." _Batgirl waited, tensely, as Barbara Gordon—the first Batgirl-ran her search engines. _"Nothing much. There are some reports of UFO activity over Gotham, though. Could be anything. Sorry."_

Batgirl let out her breath. In all honesty, she hadn't expected much else. The Thanagarians weren't fools; having been bested once before, it only made sense for them to establish a base somewhere off-planet, thus reducing the risk of detection.

But now they had nothing to go on. If the Thanagarians had taken Jason Blood offworld, there was no way to trace them…..unless…"I'm going to have to bring in the League on this one, people. We need the backup, anyway." She began to dial the Watchtower.

Klarion reached out and put his finger lightly on her hand. It was the lightest of touches, yet Batgirl found she couldn't move her fingers. "Wait. Stephanie….perhaps there is a faster way. By all means, call the League—I agree we'll need the backup—but while you're doing that, let me see if I can find something here to link me with Jason Blood, and perhaps establish a connection with him. At least find out where he is."

Batgirl nodded. It wasn't a bad idea; no matter how you sliced it, they had a whole solar system, and maybe beyond, to search. Any information would be welcome. "Okay, go ahead." She completed dialing the Watchtower.

"_Justice League Watchtower. Go ahead, Batgirl," _Shayera Hol's voice sounded over the communicator.

Meanwhile, Klarion had drawn a circle and placed the piece of paper Teekl had found in the center. Then he drew another one around himself, and reached out with his mind…..

On board the Thanagarian ship, Jason Blood was jolted from a drowsy sleep by a most unwelcome voice: _"Hello, Uncle Jason. I thought you were the one always warning me about keeping bad company."_

Blood had the presence of mind to keep all reaction from showing in his face. Instead he drew in a deep breath and thought back: _"Klarion? What the devil are you doing here?"_

"_Looking for you. We—Batgirl, Secret, and I—are currently in what used to be your living room. It's seen better days. I take it you are prisoner? Of Thanagarians?"_

"_Yes. They need me to create something called Necronium. Ever heard of it?"_

There was a shocked pause. Jason could swear he could see the Witch boy turn pale. _"Necronium? Are you sure?"_

"_Yes."_ Quickly, he related his conversation with his captor to the Witch boy. _"And they say it's the universe's only hope."_

"_I've heard of this Taker, or Eater, or Devourer, whatever name it's called by. If the rumors are true, they could be right. On the other hand, necronium, out of control, would be just as dangerous, if not more so. What do they plan to do with it?"_

"_They haven't shared that with me. Maybe it's best I don't know."_

"_Well, no matter. Where are you?"_

"_I….don't know. There's no windows here, and no one's said where we are. Why?"_

"_Because I'm coming to get you. Probably with the League, but alone if I have to."_

"_Klarion…."_

"_Not from any heroic urge, necessarily. I don't think these people understand all that can go wrong in the creation of necronium. That's a brute force technique you described; these people are amateurs. Plus….I have an idea."_

"_If it's the only way to stop this Taker…."_

"_Oh, please. You of all people should know by now there's always more than one way to do practically anything. So hang on. I take it you can't transform?"_

"_No, they've got some kind of electronic muzzle on me. Can't speak the words."_

"_Well, never mind. Let me see what I can do from this end….did you drop anything from your person during the scuffle?"_

"_Not that I can think of. Only-I think I still have the packing slip from that parcel on me."_

"_Just as good."_ And with that, Klarion broke the connection. To the others' expressions, he said, "I found him. He doesn't know where he is, but that won't matter. I can take us there."


	7. Chapter 7: No Way Out

_Don't own 'em, don't pay taxes on 'em. I guess it evens out._

Klarion and Greta: On the Darkside, chapter 7: No Way Out

"Wait, Klarion…we don't need to pop up in the middle of a cadre of Thanagarian warriors without a plan. Plus, I'm sure the installation, ship, whatever it is, will be shielded. I won't be able to get off a signal, reliably."

While they were mulling that over, Batgirl's communicator rang. _"Batgirl? Oracle here. Just happened to see a report from the space administration to the effect of there being an unknown, rapidly fluctuating magnetic field on the moon. It seems to be localized on the dark side, the side always turned away from Earth. Does this help?" _ Secret, overhearing, broke out in a wide smile. "Now we know where they are, Batgirl. The moon doesn't _have_ a magnetic field, so it's gotta be them."

Klarion looked thoughtful. "But I was always told magnetic fields and necronium don't mix. The one just attracts the other into mutual destruction."

"But," said Secret, "not all magnetic fields are created equal. For example, an alternating current electromagnet actually repels aluminum, or so I've heard. And an electromagnet repels a superconductor. That's the basis for maglev trains. Would this necronium have a similar effect?"

"Hmm." He thought, long and hard. "It's possible…..necronium would tend to have an opposite charge to any magnetic field it found itself in. That would…..that would fit. So they encase the necronium in this magnetic field, and, and launch it out towards the target? When they're ready, I mean?"

"But where's the target?"

"No telling. But first things first. We have to rescue Jason Blood." Batgirl raised her communicator again. "Oracle? We think that's where the Thanagarians are holding Blood. Alert the League. We're on our way."

After she'd clicked off, Klarion spoke up. "Stephanie. We are going into battle with beings armed with weapons that can nullify magic. We'll have the benefit of surprise, but not for long. We need another advantage."

"Have you something in mind?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I have."

Secret smiled at him impishly. "Don't believe in a fair fight, do you?"

"Nope. Never have."

"Good." Now she grinned. "Neither do I."

….

This time Batgirl forgot to take her Dramamine, and had to fight down her initial nausea, not just from the teleportation spell, but also from the sudden reduction in gravity. Fortunately, they'd materialized in a deserted corridor.

Batgirl looked around. It was too good to be true; she scanned for surveillance cameras, spy-eyes, but didn't see any. Nonetheless, she pulled her two charges—no, make that allies—uhm, three? Klarion's backup plan gave her the heebee jeebees-back into the shadows. "Klarion!" she whispered softly, "can you sense Jason Blood?"

"Yes. He's down that corridor." And he pointed down a well lit hallway, with a dizzying array of iron-grey cell doors on each side.

"Come on!" They couldn't hope to avoid detection forever, and sure enough, as they sprinted down the hallway, alarms began to sound. "Keep around me, kids!"

"Miss Stephanie, I've an idea," Secret spoke up. "You and Klarion go get Mr. Blood. I'll delay them."

"NO!" They both chorused. Greta put her hands on her hips. "Will you two _chillax_? I'm not sacrificing myself. Watch." And her outline became more and more indistinct until they could barely see her. "Now go on," said her disembodied voice, "I'll catch up. Don't worry; I don't think they're equipped to catch living mist, do you?"

At her urging they sprinted down the hallway, with Klarion unerringly homing in on Jason Blood's cell.

Behind them, Secret turned. Just before she'd left, however reluctantly, Batgirl had given her a small, button sized communicator disk. "Just put it somewhere as close to the outside as you can. It'll alert the League to where we are." She diffused herself and sank into the floor, only pausing to think a very unladylike word when she discovered she couldn't phase the disk through the floor too. Well, she'd have to come up with something.

She could hear the sounds of feet, running to catch up. They'd be here any minute…she had to do something to give Klarion and Batgirl time to free Blood

Batgirl and Klarion arrived at the cell holding Jason Blood. Over on the far side, he looked up to see them, still manacled. "They evidently didn't intend to take any chances with you, did they, Uncle Jason?" teased Klarion while Batgirl cracked the lock. "I suppose that's a compliment, of a sort." Blood shot the witch boy a look as Batgirl picked his shackles as easily as she had the locks and freed him.

But the electronic device around his throat proved a more difficult challenge. It wouldn't come off. "Never mind," he finally said, in exasperation, "Let's just go!" Out they charged, expecting to see a corridor full of enemies…..

…..only to see a corridor full of _dead_ enemies. The Thanagarians who'd come to protest the removal of their prisoner lay scattered from one end of the hallway to the other. Most looked as though they'd died by means of their own weapons.

"Uuhh….Secret? Did you do all this?" Batgirl was actually rather shocked.

The mist girl coalesced in front of them. "Not really. Well, sorta. I just materialized among them and they shot through me and hit each other." She giggled suddenly. "Kinda cool, actually. Like a road runner cartoon."

Jason Blood looked at the translucent girl with new respect. "Remind me," he said, "never to get on your bad side." Then, to the others, "any idea which way is out, here?"

"We were sorta hoping you could tell us."

Klarion put his hand to his head and closed his eyes. "I'm sensing…a large open space thirty meters down that corridor. Where it leads, I don't know."

The large open space proved to be a huge laboratory, with control panels spaced around it, and a large flat table or pedestal rising from the middle. It was covered by large glasslike cover that looked as though it could be made to retract into the roof.

"So," said a voice familiar to Jason Blood, "You made it this far. I commend you. But it changes nothing." The Thanagarian captain stepped out from the shadows…

…..followed by a platoon of armed warriors on either side.

….

_To be continued?_


	8. Chapter 8: Escape

Klarion and Greta: On the Darkside, chapter 8: Escape

The four instantly snapped to battle stations, guarding each other's backs. Klarion readied a fire attack from his left hand, but conjured up a wicked-looking Scottish _shiavona_-type sword for his right. He obviously didn't trust just his magic. "You know how to use that, Klarion?" asked Jason, glancing around to see if there was anything he could use.

"But of course. I may not be the master of swordplay that you are-and that reminds me, here-" and he handed the sword to Jason, while drawing another out of thin air for himself, "but I have had some training with edged weapons. Secret, get in the middle. The rest of us will—"

"The hell I will. This is my fight, too, Klarion, and don't you forget it."

Klarion smiled wryly. "You've got to meet my sister, Beulah. She never backed down from a fight, either. I think she rather enjoyed them."

Secret smiled. "Beat up on little brother a lot, did she?"

"Actually, last time I went home, she tried to burn me at the stake, but that was only a minor misunderstanding…" He saw her shocked look and shrugged. "It's family. I try not to take it personally."

The Thanagarian captain stepped forward. "Come now, Mr. Blood. Surely you see resistance is not just hopeless, but actually counterproductive. I ask you, as one warrior to another: give yourself up. Save not only the lives of these your companions, but the universe itself. Surely, no warrior could ask for any better death."

Klarion cleared his throat. The Thanagarian captain glanced at him, but addressed Jason Blood. "It seems a shame to waste such young lives, for nothing. Even if you succeed, and, by some dark miracle, triumph over all of us, you will still be signing the death warrant for all creation. Is that what you want?"

Klarion spoke up. "I would respectfully like to point out three things, if I may." And he waited.

The captain sighed. "Very well, speak your peace, young one."

"One, the Justice League is aware of your activitities, and is even now homing in on you. You won't be hard to find.

"Two: the construction of necronium is perhaps a bit more complicated—not to mention dangerous—than you realize. You do realize, don't you, that pure necronium, in its active state, will immediately begin to drain the life from anyone and everyone present, in an ever-expanding field of radius, don't you?  
And not just life, but energy, as well. So any means of containment would be temporary, at best."

The captain looked at him with new respect. "You speak as though you are familiar with this substance."

"I am. And that is my third point: you have here, in your midst, one who is quite knowledgeable regarding these things. I offer to assist you in this project—in exchange for the lives and freedom of my companions."

The captain shook his head. "This matter is too serious for negotiation. I will admit, your argument makes sense. Perhaps you can be of assistance to us, but we still require the demon to create the necronium. I see no way around that."

Klarion looked at him somberly. "Am I to take it then, that you are refusing my offer of cooperation?"

"You may. Warriors, seize them." The Thanagarians moved in, _n_th metal weapons at the ready.

"Then you leave me no choice. Remember, I tried to be reasonable. And I WILL leave here with my companions." Now Klarion raised his voice, reaching into his pocket and holding up the cruciform he always carried there: "Grundy, _smash!_"

Down in the guts of the starship that was the Thanagarian station, the Grundy that had been John Williams heard. "Grundy smash!" The Grundy gleefully smashed away at anything fragile-looking. It didn't have superhuman strength, but it also didn't care if it broke its own bones, either. Such concerns belong to the living only.

Lights flickered. The Thanagarians looked around in startlement and dismay. Their sensors had determined that only _three_ alien life forms had teleported in. It never occurred to them that there might be a fourth…..

…..who wasn't a living life form to begin with.

The shuddering within was answered by a shuddering from without, as something massive or powerful slammed into the side of the Thanagarian ship. The Justice League had found them.

"Warriors! To your battle stations!" the captain barked. He then turned to look at the three. "I hope you can live with the consequences of your actions. You may have doomed the entire universe, due to your stubbornness. And to think: I once had respect for you." Then he was gone, presumably to see to the defense of the ship.

Batgirl cast around. For a moment, they were in the clear. "Klarion! Can you teleport us outta here?"

"Not from right here. Too much _n_th metal in the way."

"Never mind, guys. I think I can." Greta frowned, a look of concentration lining her face.

"You?"

"Don't look so shocked. It's….just a way of thinking…." And she diffused herself, expanding to include them all…

…and suddenly moved in a direction nobody could see, dragging them with her. Surreal shapes and colors nobody could easily define swam before their eyes….

….and they found themselves back in Jason Blood's apartment, with a bored looking Teekl washing himself. He jumped, arched his back and spat, before he recognized his familiar and friends.

They took a moment to settle down. Whatever Greta had done was disconcerting, to say the least. Then Jason Blood spoke up. "Ah, any chance you might get this thing off my throat?"

…

"How did you do that?" Klarion asked Greta, while Batgirl worked to pick the lock on the throat device on Blood.

She looked off. "Not really sure. It wasn't magic, I know that. It was more like…I can see things differently now. Maybe I'm seeing in multiple dimensions or something."

"Perhaps it's a side effect of your stay in Neron's realm. Whatever the case, it definitely seems useful."

She smiled a naughty smile, looking him up and down. It actually made him a bit nervous. Just what was she seeing? "Yes. You've no idea how useful."

Meanwhile, the throat device finally yielded to Batgirl's pick. "Good thing they didn't deadman switch you."

"Yeah, that would've been…..bad." He rubbed his throat where the device had been. "But you know, people, we still have a problem."

"What, the Thanagarians? The Justice League-*"

"I've no doubt the Justice League can handle one boatload of Thanagarians. No, I'm referring to the Taker. That Thanagarian captain wasn't lying to me; there _is_ such a threat. And only we know about it."

_To be continued..._

_Please review! It means a lot to me!_


	9. Chapter 9: A Little Help

Klarion and Greta: On the Darkside, chapter 9: A Little Help

Jason Blood looked at Klarion. "Back there on the ship. You spoke like you knew how to make necronium. Do you?"

"Erm, sort of. I know the process, yes, but I can't do it alone. I'd need help." He brightened. "And, it just so happens, I know _exactly_ where to go to get it."

…..

In LimboTown, Beulah Bleak heard a knocking on the door. "I'll get it, Mother." But the sight that met her eyes momentarily stunned her. Then, "Mother! Klarion's back!" And she took a quick glance at Greta's exposed knees. "And he's brought some harlot from Blue Rafters with him! Do you want to get the switch, or should I?"

Greta turned to Klarion, hands on her hips. "_What_ did she call me?"

Klarion sighed. Yes, he was most definitely home.

…..

Over dinner, which Mrs. Bleak had been kind enough to offer them, they went over their recent adventures. Beulah kept sneaking glances at Greta, as though trying to catch her in some ungodly act. It was beginning to get on the latter's nerves. "So you see, Mother, why I'm here. I need to get Blacksmith Zechariah's help to make this necronium. We don't have any information on the Taker, so time is of the essence."

"Hm. Old Zechariah's been getting along in years. It shan't be long before he goes to the Grundy fields himself. He's been training an apprentice, young Uriah…."

"Oh, no. Not him. Not the same one who followed me to Blue Rafters, is it?"

"I'm afraid so. You may have some difficulty persuading him to help you. You two do have a history, as the saying goes. Anyway, for now, everyone eat up. You'll need to keep up your strength."

After dinner the adults sat around the living room, while Greta, Klarion, and Beulah shared an uneasy silence in the dining room. Beulah sewed, but kept making snarky remarks to Klarion about his posture, mannerisms, and pretty much everything else. By the way she cut her eyes at Greta, it was clear she regarded the Blue Rafters harlot as being the cause of the downfall of her little brother.

Finally, Greta got up and marched over to where she was sitting. "Miss Beulah, correct me if I'm wrong—"

"Which you probably are," muttered Beulah.

"—but don't you have to recite a spell properly, with proper pronunciation, in order for it to work, as intended?"

"That's correct. Your point?"

Greta stuck her face in Beulah's, and looked her in the eye. "So if I dislocated your jaw, you'd not be able to cast any spells, would you?"

For a moment, Beulah ceased her sewing and gazed at Greta with wide eyes. Then she smiled. "Croatoan be praised. I was afraid he'd brought home some weak thing with no spirit. You'll do, after all." After that, the talk became much more civil.

The next day, the four went to the blacksmith's. Just outside, Greta turned to Klarion. "Klarion, do you trust me?"

He looked surprised. "Of course. Er, why do you ask?"

"Just….let me deal with this Uriah, okay? Mr. Blood and I will have a talk with him and Zechariah. You and Miss Stephanie just….kinda make yourselves scarce."

"Greta, I—"

She put her fingers to his lips. "Sh. You trust me, remember? Just let me handle this Uriah, okay?"

"O-okay. Stephanie? Maybe we could visit the bonding tree. We should be able to get across the Grundy fields now, I understand no-one's been buried there for weeks.."

Jason Blood accompanied Greta to the blacksmith's shop. Old Zechariah was indeed old, and becoming more feeble, but a lifetime of hammering iron tends to build one up. He conferred with the two. "Hm. So you need necronium, do you? That's bad business indeed. How do you propose to use it? I've heard of this 'Taker'; it's spoken of in our Book of Shadows, and I agree, necronium may be the only thing to give it indigestion."

"We're working up a delivery system. I understand it tends to sap any energy field, correct? So maybe someway of launching it by sheer ballistic force might be our only means."

"Well, first things first. The making of necronium is not without certain hazards. Let me confer with my apprentice. Uriah! Come in here."

In came a tall young man with impressive shoulders. "Yes, master?" He caught sight of the two upworlders. "Hm. You must be Klarion's friends. Tell me, has he wrecked anyone's plans lately? I don't think he can sleep at night without causing at least a little property damage."

Greta ignored it. "Ooo. Klarion…didn't tell me you were such a…._handsome_…young man, Master Uriah." Jason looked at her out of the corner of his eye. Uriah puffed up a bit under Greta's praise, slicking his hair back, which had become tousled from working. "Well, I've grown a bit since Klarion and I met, way back when. He certainly has never told me anything about you. As you probably know, we don't exactly get along very well."

"I've heard. But I've also heard you may be the only one who can help us with this project of ours." And she filled him in on the Taker, and the latest of their adventures. "So, you see, we need some necronium. Can you help us?" She gave him a pleading look, eyes wide, crossing her legs.

"Hm. Necronium. Dangerous substance, that. Very dangerous. It normally involves utilizing necromancy, death magic, since nothing can touch it and live. It," he cleared his throat, "would be rather costly."

Greta smiled. "Yes. Let's discuss cost. Mr. Blood? Can you give Master Zechariah the details? I'd really like it if this fine young man were to show me around his master's shop. I've never been to a blacksmith's before; we don't have them in Blue Rafters, you know, not the same way. I'd be fascinated to see what you do here." And she led him out into the working area itself.

Jason Blood smiled. Women had their own magic, and usually men were powerless against it. But he hoped she wouldn't go too far….

Meanwhile, at the bonding tree, Stephanie was learning about how familiars were "born." The process had to do with imparting a small bit of blood to the tree, which in turn produced a bloom. Once the bloom blossomed and broke open, out came the familiar. "Here, Stephanie, wouldn't you like your own familiar?" Klarion was guiding her hand towards a sharp thornlike extrusion on the tree.

"Uh, Klarion, I'm not sure I—ow!" He'd pricked her finger on the thorn, with immediately soaked up the blood, and, in rapid time, like a time-lapse movie, produced a large pink bloom. "Uh, Klarion? What have you done this time? Is this gonna, like, hurt me or something? Turn me into a witch-woman or something?"

"Well, not unless you want it to. Our personal _draagas_ are bonded to us; only death can break that bond. They're the focus of our magic, but if you don't use magic, I imagine it's kind of a moot point. Just think of it as having a friend for life. Not a pet; _draagas_ are not pets. They're equals. Hm." He watched the sequence, the eggplant-like bloom getting bigger and bigger with each passing second. "You know, I don't know exactly what's in season this year. Guess we'll find out soon enough." He looked worried. "Stephanie, I'm concerned."

"About what?"

"Greta. I hope she's not…..you know…..getting in over her head, as the saying goes. I mean, I rather got the idea that she intended to sort of persuade Uriah; hence her reason for wanting me gone. And I guess I worry about that."

He was so cute when he was jealous. "Klarion, I don't think you have anything to worry about. Greta's grown up a lot lately; I guess she's had to. And she knows enough not to give Uriah any sort of leverage on her, like a lock of her hair or something. I've seen the way she looks at you, too. I don't say everything's going to be a bed of roses from now on or anything, but I think, at least for now, she knows where her heart lies."

He sighed. "I hope so." Then he brightened as the pod grew to what was obviously its full size. "Well, we'll soon see what sort of familiar you'll have."

The pod grew to about a foot and a half in diameter. Small cracks appeared around the gourd-like pod; this was followed by the pod simply breaking and opening up, to reveal….

Nothing. There was nothing inside the pod.

Klarion moved closer for a better look. "Hm. That's strange. Stephanie? Do you feel anything?"

"No….maybe it didn't work?" She'd unconsciously been somewhat excited about getting her very own familiar, and was now feeling something of a let-down.

And yet…..there was _something…._

Klarion was moving his hands in ritual gestures, all the while muttering something under his breath. She couldn't quite hear him. Which was just as well; some of the words she was able to catch hurt her head. "Well, it worked, all right. But I've never heard of _this_ happening."

"Why? What's happened?"

"Your familiar, Stephanie, is invisible. Or maybe that's the wrong word. I think….I think it's visible, but, but….hm." He frowned and thought for a moment. Then, "I think it may be a color the human eye can't perceive. That is unusual. Well, in any case, try seeing through its eyes."

"How?"

"Just close your eyes and concentrate. It ought to come naturally." She did, and was surprised by the images that cascaded through her mind. She could see herself, and Klarion, but from a perspective of only a few inches off the ground. It was like nightvision; she…no, _it_…could see in the infrared range.

But what sort of creature was it? A cat, dog, bird? She couldn't tell. She could see through its eyes, and sense what it smelled and heard, but about it itself, she couldn't make out any details. It seemed to be about the size of Teekl, or a large rabbit. "Well, this is, as you say, unusual, Klarion. At least I won't have to explain it to my landlord. I've got a 'no pets' clause in my lease, but I don't have to explain what he can't see." She smiled.

Klarion grinned. "Why, Miss Stephanie. We'll make a proper Lord of Chaos out of you, after all."

…..

_To be continued_


End file.
